


Aqua Velva

by jamaillith



Category: Zodiac (2007)
Genre: Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-04
Updated: 2014-07-04
Packaged: 2018-02-07 10:37:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 452
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1895946
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jamaillith/pseuds/jamaillith
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A little something for the RDJ Ficfest. Utterly shameless.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Aqua Velva

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into Русский available: [Аква Вельва](https://archiveofourown.org/works/12017076) by [fandom_Robert_Downey_Jr_2017](https://archiveofourown.org/users/fandom_Robert_Downey_Jr_2017/pseuds/fandom_Robert_Downey_Jr_2017), [remontada](https://archiveofourown.org/users/remontada/pseuds/remontada)



They lie together on the motel bed, the weird grey-blue light of dawn creeping in through the blinds, silvering the cigarette smoke hanging in the air.

'Are you watching me sleep?' Paul mutters, his eyes closed, his voice a low nicotine rumble of sound. Robert smiles a little to himself. He shifts his weight on the cheap bed and the cheap blankets, making the springs creak.

'No,' he replies, watching Paul's chest rise and fall with his breathing.

'Because if you are,' Paul continues, as if he hasn't heard, 'I'm going to have to tell you that's really.. very creepy.'

'Uh-huh.'

Robert shifts again, lifting the hand that isn't hooked under the flat pillow. He reaches over and runs his fingertips up the stripe of hair on Paul's stomach, tracing it like he'd trace the lines of a drawing, a cipher.

Paul makes a kind of satisfied groaning sound in the back of his throat, his eyes still shut, and arches his back so Robert's palm flattens against his solar plexus. Robert grins and pushes his hand into the mat of hair on Paul's chest, eliciting another groan as he scratches his fingernails through the wiry curls.

'Mmm.. you know, for a boy-scout, you sure do know what to do to drive a man crazy,' Paul observes, opening one eye a crack to peer at him.

'I wasn't a very good boy scout,' Robert replies, his attention on the way his hand looks as he rubs it over Paul's chest, like he's petting a dog. A dog that smells like sex and Old Spice and the sweet burnt-orange of Auqa Velva.

'Sure you weren't,' Paul replies, still watching him, 'I bet you ironed your neckerchief.' Robert's hand begins to move lower. 'Made those little.. cookies, sold them at people's doors.' Paul's head tilts back a little as Robert's fingers brush over his cock. He closes his eyes again. 'Helped little.. old ladies.. ah-across the street. All that. All that.. good shit.'

'I wasn't, really,' Robert says, head tilted, his hand moving in long, slow strokes. Paul groans and raises his hips a little, pushing himself into Robert's loose fist.

'Face it.. honey,' Paul mutters, breathless, 'you're.. not.. you're not exactly.. rebel without a cause.. even if you are.. rather exceptionately skilled at-'

Robert tightens his grip and Paul gasps out a curse.

'Do you always talk this much?'

Paul squints his eyes open and meets Robert's gaze. His face looks strange without his glasses. Younger. He grins.

'So shut me up, boy scout.'

Robert grins back, and Paul's mouth meets his halfway and Paul's fingers are scraping across his scalp and somewhere in the lonely maze of the city, a siren wails.


End file.
